raordinary occasions, he passed many nights together in almost
sleepless activity, he had the faculty of catching short naps at
intervals in his carriage, and even on horseback. After many days and
nights of preparation for some great conflict, he has been known even to
fall asleep upon the field of battle, in the midst of all the horrors of
the sanguinary scene. At the battle of Bautzen, for instance, Napoleon
was extremely fatigued by the exertions and sleeplessness of the two
preceding days and nights. He fell asleep several times when seated on
an eminence, overlooking the field of battle, and which was frequently
reached by the cannon balls of the enemy. Napoleon, at St. Helena, when
alluding to this fact, said that Nature had her rights, which could not
be violated with impunity; and that he felt better prepared to issue
fresh orders, or to consider the reports which were brought, when
awaking from these momentary slumbers. Though Napoleon could not set at
defiance the established workings of our mental and physical nature,
words can hardly convey an adequate idea of the indefatigable activity
of his mind, or of his extraordinary powers of enduring mental and
bodily fatigue. Few have ever understood better the art of concentrating
the attention upon one thing at a time. Often, on his campaigns, after
reading the dispatches, and dictating orders to one set of secretaries
during the whole day, he would throw himself, for an hour, upon his
sofa, instantly fall into the soundest sleep, and then, summoning to his
presence a new relay of secretaries, would keep them incessantly
occupied till morning. To keep himself awake on such occasions, he
resorted to strong coffee. It was only under the pressure of great
necessity that he thus overtasked his Herculean powers.

Occasionally, when Napoleon was absent on his campaigns, Josephine would
retire to Malmaison, and become deeply interested in rural occupations.
She had a large and very fine flock of merino sheep, and she took great
pleasure in superintending their culture. A detachment of the imperial
guard was, on such occasions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One
evening the empress, sitting up till a later hour than usual, heard the
sound of footsteps passing to and fro beneath her window. She sent for
the officer of the guard, and inquired what it meant. He informed her
that it was the sentry, who was appointed to keep watch beneath her
window all night. "Sir," she r